


better to burn than fade away

by astinaea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Children, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Insults, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Slow Burn, big brother mattsun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astinaea/pseuds/astinaea
Summary: They are definitely anything but friends, but when life gives you lemons...





	1. mattsun

Matsukawa was late. Again. He didn't mean to, really. He tried his hardest to not miss his lectures, but with everything he had to take care of before he could leave it was sometimes hard to not leave too late. Then there was also the problem of his general tiredness. More often than not, he fell asleep halfway through his lectures, missing all the necessary information that was shared and having to find someone he could copy the notes of.

Those weren't his only problems, though.

Ignoring the fact that basically all his professors had a weird love-hate relation with Matsukawa now, there was one thing that managed to worsen his mood in the early mornings. Or well, one person.

Hanamaki Takahiro.

Hanamaki Takahiro and Oikawa Tooru, his friend, were known across campus as two of the university’s heartthrobs; both very good-looking and athletic. What most of their admirers didn’t know about were their… questionable personalities.

They looked like flower boys, pretty and sweet, but they were snarky as hell and could be very scary when pissed off. Not that Matsukawa was scared of them, though. They might be the scary pretty boys, but he and Iwaizumi were known as more of the bad boy-types and (Matsukawa wasn’t vain but he also wasn’t blind) were also very much admired by the other students. Mainly girls, but a few guys as well.

The problem in all this, was that everyone was either too scared of Hanamaki’s attitude in the mornings or too intimidated by his pretty face, and no one sat next to him in the lectures.

Lectures he shared with Matsukawa, and lectures that Matsukawa always was late to.

Meaning the seat next to Hanamaki was often the only free seat.

Matsukawa didn’t like Hanamaki. He was not only deceivingly pretty (he was definitely not as sweet as he looked), he was also very easily pissed off and was not shy at all to take it out on Matsukawa, as he was often the closest by him. Hanamaki would send him condemning glares and never woke him up when the lecture was over or they needed to take notes. Matsukawa didn’t think Hanamaki had ever spoken a word to him, despite having sat next to him for months already.

Really, the only impression Matsukawa had of Hanamaki was conceited and arrogant, and still Hanamaki dared pretend he was sweet, constantly smiling at other girls and acting nice and friendly with them. Matsukawa despised that.

This lecture was the same as always; Hanamaki who didn’t even spare Matsukawa a glance as he ran in, four minutes late and took his seat next to him. Matsukawa who, exhausted from his earlier activities at home, fell asleep forty minutes in. Matsukawa waking up two hours later to the whole class packing their bags again and Hanamaki sending him disapproving glares, still not speaking a word.

After the lecture, Matsukawa went straight for the café, where he knew Iwaizumi was waiting for him. Dropping his bag (and himself) in the booth at the table Iwaizumi had saved for them, Matsukawa let out a deep sigh.

Iwaizumi didn’t even have to ask what was wrong, as it was almost always the same thing that got Matsukawa annoyed. “Prissy pink guy again?”

Matsukawa nodded and huffed out a laugh. “Do you think he even knows my name?  I don’t think he’s ever said a word to me, in the whole semester.”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi said, “maybe. They know everyone, probably.”

“So, he’s just really enough of a bitch to completely ignore an innocent guy,” Matsukawa mused, stretching his arms and back. Sleeping in the chairs in the lecture hall was never comfortable, but it still happened every time.

“Who was it this time?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Reiji,” Matsukawa said, groaning softly. “You’d think he’d be more calm now that he’s growing up a bit, but no way. I don’t think he’ll ever lose that rowdy streak.”

“He’s still young,” Iwaizumi mentioned, playing with the straw he got with his Frappuccino. “He’s, what… ten, right?”

“Nine,” Matsukawa corrected, “but he’ll be ten in a few weeks. Won’t shut up about it.”

“Better brace yourself for when puberty hits, then,” Iwaizumi snickered, “but maybe he’ll calm down after that.”

Matsukawa could only sigh one more time. “I hope so. I love the kid, but if he doesn’t learn to shut up anytime soon I can’t promise I won’t start yelling at him and he doesn’t deserve that. He’s not a bad kid.”

Iwaizumi hummed. “Maybe you’re just a softie. You aren’t the only one who has responsibility over him, okay?! Let someone else take it over for you some time. You should be able to start your own life by now, without constantly having to take care of three kids.”

“As long as dad doesn’t step up I’ve got to take his place,” Matsukawa said shrugging. “It’s not a big deal, Iwaizumi. I can do it.”

It was a discussion they had often. Matsukawa’s dad, while he was in the picture, wasn’t that great of a parental figure. His mother did everything she could to keep the family alive financially, and Matsukawa had taken his father’s place to take care of his three younger siblings; Reiji of nine, Saburo of eight and Hikaru of six as the only girl in the family. Reiji was the opposite of what his name implied; he was excitable, loud and rowdy. Saburo was extremely shy in contrast to Reiji’s exuberant personality and Hikaru was, true to her name, too smart for her age.

Iwaizumi didn’t look convinced, but sighed softly and shrugged. “As long as you’re not lying about being able to handle it,” he said, and Matsukawa grinned.

“I know you love me, Hajime, and there’s no way to convince me otherwise,” he said.

Iwaizumi only grumbled something unintelligible in response. “I tolerate you,” he then mumbled.

“You’re a big softie and you know it,” Matsukawa sang. “Everyone’s favorite buff bad boy is a fluffy, sweet child at heart.”

Iwaizumi snickered and shook his head. “You’re just bullshitting now. Enough, Mattsun. I’m not a bad boy, nor am I a fluffy child. You know that if there’s anyone a softie here, it’s you.”

Matsukawa’s grin widened. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to admit it, Hajime. That’s fine. I completely understand that you want to appear tough for the pretty, delicate boys and girls here.”

Iwaizumi slapped the back of Matsukawa’s head and stood up. “That’s enough nonsense. Let’s go get our coffees and then go to the library. Then you can rest a bit and I can squeeze some studying in before the 1 pm class.”

“Nerd,” Matsukawa said, but he did stand up to follow Iwaizumi to the counter, ordering another Frappuccino for Iwaizumi and a black coffee for Matsukawa.

***

One day could change your whole life. Matsukawa was slowly getting extremely terrified that today was that day.

He was going to die, for sure. Either his siblings or Hanamaki and the group project that was announced two minutes ago would be the cause of his death.

He didn’t deserve this. He tried his best, really. He had never let one of his siblings fall down the stairs, and had never forgotten to make them breakfast. He often was late to class or missed one, and practically always fell asleep, but he wasn’t failing. He’d never said anything rude or mean to Hanamaki.

He really, really didn’t deserve this, but it was happening to him anyway.

 

He’d been extremely late again that morning, because that damned Reiji had knocked down a vase and loudly blamed little Saburo, who obviously had nothing to do with it at all and started crying.

Now, note that a crying Saburo was the most heart breaking sight there was. The sweet, small, shy boy who never argued, never was too loud and always did his chores and homework and then went to his room to draw cute family pictures and dogs, crying. Matsukawa already hated thinking about it.

Then, ten minutes into class the professor suddenly brought up a group project that she’d forgotten to mention the last week, but Matsukawa was so tired he was barely registering what she was saying. Then she started appointing duos, and Matsukawa felt his soul leave his body.

He sat next to Hanamaki. Everyone else either was intimidated by Hanamaki, or idolized him. Hanamaki didn’t seem like the person to be okay with working together with someone who was a fan of him. He was an ass, but a hardworking one. He wouldn’t want his partner to be distracted during the project.

Matsukawa refused to think about how he knew all that. He observed people. Hanamaki was easy enough to read, he thought.

Matsukawa was awake. Really.

At least, he thought he was. He felt numb, like he could start floating and fly through the open window at any given moment. He was thinking, and seeing everyone turn to their partners in the classroom, and felt Hanamaki’s eyes burn into the side of his head. His brain felt foggy.

Why this was a bad situation? Matsukawa wasn’t sure. Maybe because he’d never talked to Hanamaki before. Maybe because he was annoyingly infamous on campus. Maybe because he had no way out now and was forced to interact and communicate and create a good project together with Hanamaki, and he was pretty sure Hanamaki either hated him or had a very bad first impression of him.

“I hope you know I’m not looking forward to this,” a sneering voice came from his right.

Hanamaki. _Nice first words, jerk._

“I didn’t expect anything else from your majesty,” Matsukawa said, unable to keep a sneer of his own back. “I hope _you_ know I don’t want to do this either.”

“Go cry about it on your buff boy’s shoulder,” Hanamaki muttered, obviously ticked off by Matsukawa’s response.

Matsukawa snorted. “I’m not sure what you’re implying. Let’s just split up already, this is going to be hell otherwise.”

“Gladly,” Hanamaki answered, looking back to the front, subtly sending an almost intimidating looking glare at the professor’s back. “You’re an incompetent asshole anyway.”

Matsukawa pulled up one eyebrow. “Fuck you, pretty boy. An asshole, yes. I admit that I can be an asshole. I’m a _great_ asshole. But, you of all people do _not_ get to call me incompetent.”

“Enlighten me, sir Great Asshole. Why don’t I? You haven’t shown anything to prove me wrong yet, with your always bursting in late, and sleeping in class and then stupidly stealing other people’s notes. Maybe you think you’re so smart, but that’s not how university works, shithead.”

Matsukawa took a deep, deep breath and turned his back to Hanamaki, grabbing his bag and standing up. Class was almost over anyway. He was getting out of here before he said something to Hanamaki that he’d regret later.

Matsukawa often made the mistake of leaving people who angered him a bit too quickly, so that good insults only popped up in his head _after_ he left the scene. Hanamaki pissed him off _extra_ bad, though, so he waited around a bit and _then_ left.

“Honestly,” he said, saying the first thing that came up in his mind, hoping it’d be good. “Makki- _chan._ ” He gave himself a second to enjoy the sour expression that grew on Hanamaki’s face. Then he looked over his shoulder and sent him a glare, mixed with a cheerful grin.

“Honestly, I’d call you a cunt, but you lack warmth and depth. See you tomorrow.”

Then he quickly walked off, smiling and waving sweetly at the professor before closing the classroom door behind him.

Shit, that was really lame. Maybe Hanamaki was shocked enough to not really think about it. Matsukawa hoped so.

When he got home, Matsukawa was almost bowled over by Reiji, who was nowhere as tall as Issei was at his age. How he still managed to almost bowl Matsukawa over was a mystery.

“Nii-san, did you bring me popsicles?” the nine-year old exclaimed, and Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

“Great to be home, Reiji, did you have a nice day at school?”

Reiji had the conscience to at least look guilty, before he sent an overly sweet smile in Matsukawa’s direction, obviously hoping it’d pacify him. “Welcome home, nii-san!” he then said, voice not changing in volume. “Was your day good?”

“Not really,” Matsukawa laughed, “sometimes I have to sit next to a very yucky boy and he’s not nice to me, but I can manage. You’re supposed to be polite and nice to other people, even if they aren’t nice to you.”

“Bullshit!” Reiji exclaimed, and immediately realized his choice of words and backtracked. “Ah- I mean nonsense! If that boy is mean to nii-san, he shouldn’t have to be nice to him!”

Matsukawa smiled and took Reiji’s balled fists in his hands and shook them a bit. “Fighting and paying everyone back what they give to you isn’t always gonna help you out, Reiji. It’s important to know when  you can or can’t, and I can’t right now.”

Reiji frowned. “I still think it’s bulls- nonsense. But sure, if you think so. C’mon, Saburo got some sheets back with grades and he did better than me, but I did better in P.E! Saburo doesn’t even have a P.E. grade, how weird is that?”

“Of course you did. Did you not study for your tests again?”

“I did! Nii-san, I really, truly, honestly did try to study, but I just can’t remember it. I didn’t fail, I just… didn’t do very well,” Reiji protested, a slightly worried look on his face.

Matsukawa hummed. “You should’ve lead with that instead of just saying Saburo did better than you. If you can really promise me you did the best you could, not failing is enough. Some people are just more athletic than intelligent and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He then proceeded to toe off his shoes and followed Reiji to the living room, where Saburo sat at the dinner table. Matsukawa immediately saw what ‘grade cards’ Reiji was talking about; his teacher had written a compliment about his handwriting on the sheet he was looking over. Saburo was after all still learning to write and do a lot of other things; he’d only started school a year ago.

Oh, and he’d only made one mistake on his math sheet. That’s indeed better than Reiji did at his age, but…

Matsukawa laughed and gently pushed Reiji in the shoulder. “You can’t compare the grades, Reiji,” he said. “You had actual tests you didn’t fail for despite having trouble with studying. Saburo only gets exercise sheets, not real tests.”

“So I _did_ do a good job?” the younger boy asked excitedly. When Matsukawa nodded and ruffled his hair, he beamed. “Cool!”

“Sabu, I’m home,” Matsukawa said, calling out to the youngest boy, who only now noticed his presence. He smiled and patted Matsukawa’s hand, not saying a word.

He’d been in school for over a year now recently having started his second, and it had happened multiple times that, when Matsukawa had the time to pick them up (instead of having the family down the street bring them home, they took the kids to school when Matsukawa couldn’t. They had house keys and his schedule and everything.), one of his teachers asked him if something with Saburo. If he was mute, or maybe autistic.

He wasn’t. Saburo was just always lost in his own head, and on top of that extremely shy. Matsukawa was already glad he did talk in the comfort of their own home.

“Do you know where Hikaru is, Sabu?” Matsukawa asked. Most likely was, that she was holed up in her own room or in the attic, looking at the sky. She did that a lot. Matsukawa still wasn’t too sure why.

What he did know was that Hikaru had an incredibly complicated brain, and that she was way too intelligent for her age. She’d taught herself to read when she wasn’t even in school, and now read books Matsukawa read when he was in high school, and while he wasn’t in a very high class, he was definitely not dumb. (He mostly just never studied.)

“Hikaru is in the attic, nii-san,” said Saburo in a quiet voice, pointing to the stairs.

Matsukawa hummed in understanding. “Could’ve seen that coming. Reiji, play calm. I’ll be back. Do you want to help cook dinner?”

“Yes!” Reiji cheered. “When’s mommy coming back?”

“Dinnertime,” Matsukawa replied, “so we’ll make it extra yummy, okay?” Reiji’s excited nodding brought a smile to his face. He went up the stairs to the attic, indeed finding Hikaru there.

Matsukawa’s family situation was… complicated. His mother worked long days at a restaurant, and sometimes got back late in the evening. When she did come back before -or at- dinnertime, she was too tired to cook or play with the younger kids.

Matsukawa was extremely grateful they didn’t make any trouble of it. They were happy when their mother was home, but when she wasn’t they accepted it and just expected her to kiss them goodbye the next morning, since she left for work a bit before the kids were taken to school.

Their dad was a topic they didn’t speak about. Technically, he was still in the picture, but Matsukawa hadn’t seen him in weeks. He brought in some money, he guessed, but Matsukawa knew it was only a small part of what he really earned. He stayed at hotels a lot, and gambled even more.

Matsukawa didn’t miss him. The man barely felt like a father anymore. He certainly wasn’t a father _figure._ As long as he gave their family some money from time to time, Matsukawa was content. He didn’t need the person in his life. He hadn’t been a good father figure since before Saburo’s birth, which was over eight years ago. Before that he’d been on and off as well. They were better off without him.

“Hikaru?” Matsukawa called out to the girl who was seemingly mesmerized with whatever she was looking at. The girl turned around and smiled sweetly at Matsukawa.

“Look, the white eyes are coming back. Did you know that their Latin name is Zosterops Japonicus? Those white eyes over there have been in Africa, how amazing is that? I don’t think I’ll ever want to go to Africa, but it’s still amazing to be able to go wherever you want to go…”

With that, she trailed off, leaning her elbows on the windowsill again. Matsukawa chuckled. “Guess that means summer is coming back, huh?”

“Spring first, silly,” Hikaru laughed as she bounded away from the window again. “Is mommy working late again?”

“Not as late as yesterday,” Matsukawa said. “She’ll probably be home in time to have dinner with us, so let’s prepare something, alright?”

“Okay!” Hikaru agreed readily.

The thing with Hikaru was that she was scarily intelligent, very quick and remembered nearly everything she read or heard, but was barely aware of it. She didn’t act like she was smart, didn’t look down on kids like Reiji, who had… well, more brawn (and energy, Christ) than brains.

“What do you want to eat?” Matsukawa asked, and she shrugged.

 “Whatever mommy likes!”

 

An hour later, the food was done just in time for Matsukawa to hear the door open and close.

“I’m home!” the familiar voice of his mother called out, and Reiji immediately hopped off his stool.

“Welcome home mommy! Nii-san and Hikaru and me made really nice dinner and you have to eat with us!”

Matsukawa grinned as he heard a soft grunt and Reiji’s loud laughter ringing through the house. His mother stepped into the living room, (a too tall to be doing this) Reiji clinging onto her legs.

“Welcome home,” Matsukawa said, pulling Reiji’s arms away from his mother’s legs. She immediately dropped down on the stool next to Saburo, who had now started drawing.

“Hey hey, little Sabu. How are you doing?”

Saburo looked up, a distressed expression on his face immediately clearing away and into a cute smile when he saw his mother. He leaned into her and smiled even wider. “Hi, mommy. The teacher said I did a good job on the math.”

“Really?” his mother said, softly stroking over Saburo’s hair with one hand, resting her head in the other. “Can I see?”

Saburo nodded and hopped off the stool to grab the exercise sheets he’d put aside earlier.

Matsukawa Azumi was not old for a mother of four, especially considering her oldest was 19 and already in university. She wasn’t exactly young either, considering her youngest had was 6. There was a big age gap between Issei and his siblings. He didn’t know why, and his mother never had given a reason for it, so he just assumed there wasn’t a specific reason.

Matsukawa had already lived as a single child for ten years, when there were suddenly three new babies in only four years’ time. He didn’t exactly mind, but it did take some getting used to.

Matsukawa wasn’t a social butterfly, but he did like having someone to be around. He hadn’t had many friends in elementary school, so when Reiji was born he couldn’t wait until the baby boy was old enough to play with him. Matsukawa looked forward the most to teaching him to read and draw, since he liked doing both a lot when he was younger. Then he started playing volleyball in middle school, and he hoped Reiji would like it too.

By the time he was in middle school, his second brother had been born. Reiji wasn’t one to sit still with him, at two years old, so he hoped little Saburo would be a bit more calm.

His father was already gone most of the time, by then. When Azumi was still taking care of the newborn boy, he was around sometimes, and during the pregnancy he took Matsukawa to school and back home, but that was it. After Azumi had recovered from giving birth, she went back to work, Saburo and Reiji were taken care of by a babysitter (and Matsukawa and Azumi, when they had time) and his dad disappeared.

He came back every week, which turned into every few weeks. One day, he came back home after a particularly long time, and the then one-year old Saburo immediately started crying upon his entrance.

He didn’t even recognize his own father.

Reiji had seemed to recognize him, but barely. He was barely three years old, and not that good at remembering things.

That was when Matsukawa, then thirteen years old, decided he’d take over his father’s role. He found it unacceptable that his own siblings didn’t know their own father, and was from that moment on determined to be the father figure his two brothers had missed until then.

It wasn’t like his dad had been a good parent when Matsukawa himself was younger, but at least he’d been around and sometimes helped him with his writing.

Then Hikaru came, and their lives continued like usual. Dad gone again, mom working to support them and Matsukawa raising the kids. That was how it was.

Until Matsukawa went to high school, and his studying load became about double as big as it had been in middle school, and things went rough. Matsukawa ended up being in the first class, because he simply had no time for studying. He managed to pass his classes without it, and now here he was.

In university, studying Pedagogy to become a child psychologist, and things were looking up.

Except for the pain in the Sociology class he shared with that shitpouch Hanamaki. The project.

“You okay?” his mother’s soothing voice sounded, shaking him from his thoughts. He saw everyone had sat down already and quickly took a seat as well, mumbling a quick ‘itadakimasu’ before digging in.

“Yeah,” he hummed when everyone else was eating as well. “I just have a partner project for the Sociology class I’m in and I’m paired up with a huge asshole.”

“Hmm, that sucks,” Azumi said, being her sympathetic, simple self. She was never very strict on language, as long as no one of the family used it against each other to purposely hurt someone. Of course, bad curses were banned, but she didn’t care about innocent swear words.

Matsukawa knew it was because she was bad at keeping them in herself, at times.

“Is he at least cute?” she then asked, sending a sideways smile to him.

Right, and that. Matsukawa came out to his mom as gay in his second year without even realizing it. They were watching a tv program about some high school drama, and the main character’s actor was cute. Matsukawa commented on it to his mom, and only two hours after, when he was in bed, she came storming in and asked him if he was gay. Matsukawa said yes, his mom told him good night and left the room again.

Matsukawa was extremely lucky with her reaction, he realized as he heard of the boy in school that almost got kicked out when his parents found out. Matsukawa didn’t know the boy’s name, but he did know that after the news became known to the whole school, the boy was bullied for the rest of second year, and part of third year.

He never told anyone but Iwaizumi, who was probably bisexual himself. At least, that was what Iwaizumi himself said.

But… was Hanamaki cute?

Matsukawa hummed to himself, stuffing his mouth with more food, chewing slowly as he thought about what would be the best answer without his mother jumping on his ass later.

“That’s a bit complicated,” he ended up saying. The questioning (teasing) look from his mother was enough prompting, and he quickly continued with an explanation.

“He and his friend are kind of known as the pretty boys of campus, so I guess he’s cute. His personality ruins everything within a millisecond, though. It’s absolutely rotten.”

Azumi chuckled. “Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside. Happens far too often. Too bad, you could use a boyfriend!”

Matsukawa snorted, pausing his chewing. “More than enough time for that after uni, mom. I’m in no hurry.”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Azumi tutted, “but it would be nice, you have to admit that. I’m sure you’d be a great boyfriend.”

Reiji laughed loudly. “Taro said when you get a girlfriend, you turn mushy and want kisses and stuff. He said his older brother and his girlfriend kiss a lot and that it looks gross!”

Matsukawa winced lightly. “How old is Taro’s brother?”

“Fifteen!” Reiji answered. “He said it seems gross, and that he doesn’t want a girlfriend. I don’t want one either. Girls are annoying.”

When he saw Hikaru’s stare, he hastily added “Not you! But the girls in my class are. They’re too giggly and loud.”

Matsukawa didn’t want to point out Reiji’s own standard volume, and instead reached out to him, getting his attention back on Matsukawa again.

“Um… don’t tell him I want a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, ‘kay? I know how you are, and it’s not a bad thing but lots of people don’t like it.”

Reiji looked confused for a second, but shrugged. “Sure. I can say you don’t want a girlfriend, right? Then Taro can tease his brother with it. He gets red like a lobster when he’s embarrassed and then his girlfriend laughs at him. That’s funny.”

“As long as you don’t mention the boyfriend part,” Matsukawa said. “Lots of kids don’t understand it, and when I was a bit older than you a kid got bullied for wanting a boyfriend.”

Of course, that had been in high school, and it had been about the kid himself, but children were cruel and rumors carried. Matsukawa didn’t want to take the risk. If people found out Reiji had a gay brother, he could get teased or bullied about it. Matsukawa had seen that happen too, to a girl in a year below him. In high school, people still talked about it.

Reiji was an odd kid, but Matsukawa didn’t want to be the reason for him to also be seen as an odd kid by his classmates. Matsukawa wasn’t ashamed of being gay, but in their current society, with social standards and unspoken guidelines of how a person should be, it was best to not speak about it.

 

A week later, Matsukawa was back in the Sociology classroom, for once not next to Hanamaki, when the professor ruined even that one, tiny happy moment for him when she instructed everyone to sit with their project partner. Begrudgingly, Matsukawa grabbed his bag and let himself fall in the seat next to Hanamaki’s.

He didn’t say a word and faced the front, where the professor started explaining the gist and basic guidelines of the project.

They had to choose a subject themselves, and work it out in an essay of seven thousand to ten thousand words. That was not as big as a thesis, but definitely bigger than your everyday essay. They had to write those sometimes, but Matsukawa hoped they wouldn’t get any essays until the project was due.

Damn it. They had three months for it, and it was going to take up a lot of free time. That meant he’d have to work together with Hanamaki after school time. That meant he’d have to take Hanamaki to his home. He couldn’t just leave the kids home alone and unattended, and he wasn’t very keen on letting someone else do it.

This couldn’t get much worse, Matsukawa thought.

Well, he was paired up with Hanamaki. Which meant it definitely could. Hanamaki, namely, was unresponsive.

Matsukawa turned to him, grunting a greeting, hoping to catch him in a good mood.

Hanamaki also turned to him, one eyebrow high on his forehead.

Damn it, his face alone was already pissing Matsukawa off. This was not going to go well.

“Looks like we’re stuck together, ass,” Hanamaki said in a condescending tone. Matsukawa could already feel himself get annoyed. Usually, he was pretty tolerant to bullshit and good at staying calm, but Hanamaki really irked him in ways he couldn’t even begin to describe. Just… his presence alone was already annoying.

“Sadly enough,” Matsukawa bit back, and Hanamaki snorted.

“Not late this time. What a miracle.”

“Face front, dickwad. I’m not completely incompetent.”

“Using big words isn’t gonna help you seem smarter, fuckwit. There’s no reason to try to convince me you’re smarter than I think you are.”

“Oh, I think there’s plenty reason,” Matsukawa said, turning in his seat to face the front of the classroom, where the professor was sitting behind her desk, quietly observing the students (well, the students who did get along and were peacefully working on their project). “Just the fact that you’re so sure you’re smarter than I am is already concerning.”

Hanamaki huffed and took his phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, right,” he said, and then started tapping away on his phone. Matsukawa fiddled a bit with the zipper of his jacket until Hanamaki sighed and broke their silence again.

“Look, as much as we both hate this, we have a project to finish and I’m not letting you get me a bad grade. I don’t care how much you do, as long as you don’t fuck it up.”

“That’s a shit mindset to have,” Matsukawa said, in a clearly fake cheery tone. “Can’t we make this a nice, fun project? Work together, become besties!”

“Oh my fucking- Fuck off, you contemptible human being. I’d rather eat my own house than spend more time than necessary with you. Let’s finish this fucking project as soon as we can and agree to never speak again.”

Matsukawa sighed and shrugged. “If we’re going to do this, at least pretend you don’t hate my guts. That’s not gonna make this any better for you _or_ me.”

“Impossible,” Hanamaki scoffed. “But I’m glad you noticed. Well then, now that we’re on the same page, let’s decide a topic.”

“What page are you talking about, I never agreed to whatever bullshit you’re spouting,” Matsukawa mumbled angrily, turning to Hanamaki again. He felt a few eyes on his back, but chose to ignore them. This was something a few people would probably use to seem interesting. They had gossip. Matsukawa didn’t feel like dealing with it.

Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, two of the most popular guys from campus who were never before seen together, now were. And they were fighting.

“So,” Hanamaki continued, completely ignoring Matsukawa’s comment, “we at least know it has to be on Psychology. What are you studying?”

Matsukawa pulled up one eyebrow, and Hanamaki huffed an annoyed (slightly aggressive sounding) sigh. “I’m not at all interested in you or whatever you’re doing when you’re not fucking sleeping, but maybe we have some overlapping subjects. That would make this easier. The sooner we’re done, the better.”

Hanamaki took a notepad and a red ballpoint out of his bag and opened the notepad, writing “Project” on the top line of the page.

“I’m in Pedagogics,” Matsukawa said, leaning his chin in his arm that was leaning on the table now beside him.

Hanamaki hummed. “Hm. Sociology and Creative Writing for me. We could do something with language and psychology, maybe. Maybe also something on development for your part.”

“Fine by me,” Matsukawa said. He did want to do well on this project, but he didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic to Hanamaki. He was an asshole and Matsukawa was convinced he’d use anything against him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a bit more enthusiastic,” Hanamaki snarked. “Looks like I’m going to be doing this project by myself. You’re obviously of no help.”

“Jesus, calm down a bit,” Matsukawa said scornfully. “No need to get your panties in a twist, and don’t think for a second I’m letting you fuck this project up on your own. If I’m going down, it’s by my own hand and especially not by yours.”

Hanamaki’s frown deepened and he glared icily at Matsukawa, but it didn’t faze him the slightest. He’d seen worse. Hanamaki was good at glaring, but he obviously hadn’t met Iwaizumi Hajime when angry yet. Now _that_ was a proper mean glare.

“Seriously, who do you think you are?” Hanamaki hissed, leaning closer to Matsukawa and still glaring at him. “You’re _not_ better than me. Of all people here, you’re probably the least qualified person for this, so don’t _fucking_ bother me, Matsukawa.”

“Getting rude here, aren’t we?” Matsukawa said skeptically, leaning back a bit but not taking his eyes off Hanamaki’s. “Who are _you_ to make such grave assumptions about me? You don’t even know me. I’m already impressed you know my name, seeing we s _at next to each other and you didn’t speak to me for over half a year._ ”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Hanamaki hissed back, “you haven’t shown one single thing that could change my mind in that past half year, so why should I act any differently to you now? It’s not like you spoke to me either.”

“Glad I didn’t, now I know you’re like this,” Matsukawa scoffed. “And to answer your question; I’m Matsukawa Issei, how _awfully_ nice to meet you. It’s a great pleasure, _kind sir._ ”

Hanamaki hissed some words Matsukawa didn’t (want to) understand between his teeth. They didn’t sound very friendly. Or happy, in any way. Matsukawa couldn’t blame him. He’d been hopeful that morning, praying that maybe once they got to work Hanamaki wouldn’t be so bad, but he’d been proven wrong.

Hanamaki was a person worth hating. _That’s_ how bad he was.

“Oh my God, seriously?” Hanamaki then groaned, throwing his head back and stretching in his seat. “You’re going to be like this? What are you, five? Like I said, I want to do well on this damn project and if you get in my way I will not be happy.”

“Very scary, and no. I’m nineteen, and I’m assuming you are around my age since we’re in the same class, meaning I don’t have to be respectful to you. I don’t know what you were expecting, but with the way you’re talking down to me you’re definitely not earning anything.”

“Don’t need it,” Hanamaki huffed, sitting back again. “I’ll do this stupid project by myself. Fucknut.”

“Creative,” Matsukawa commented offhandedly. “And good luck with my project.”

“Just shut the fuck up already and go sleep or something.”

“Noted,” Matsukawa said before tuning Hanamaki out. He was trying his hardest not to let it show too much, but he was furious on the inside. Hanamaki was truly the biggest dick he’d ever met.

He hadn’t talked to Matsukawa even once before this, hadn’t even bothered to find out _why_ he was always too late and sleeping or absent to those classes they shared. He hadn’t even bothered to get to know Matsukawa’s side of the situation (that had absolutely nothing to do with Hanamaki or whether Matsukawa was capable of working on that project or not)  and had judged Matsukawa harshly and without changing his mind.

He was looking down on Matsukawa, and not even trying to look for redeeming qualities. Matsukawa had plenty, but by now he was so fed up he didn’t even want Hanamaki to like him or at least tolerate him anymore. He was absolutely done with Hanamaki and his shitty face and his shitty mind and his shitty opinions and-

Yeah, he really hated Hanamaki Takahiro.

***

“He sounds like a dick,” Iwaizumi said that afternoon over a cup of hot chocolate. Matsukawa nodded aggressively in confirmation.

“The worst. He didn’t even try to be nice, just cut me off right from the beginning and started bitching at me. I really don’t get how other people still believe he’s a nice, good guy.”

“Hmm,” Iwaizumi replied, quickly swallowing the sip he took (and almost choking on it) before he spoke again. “It’s his face,” he then said, motioning over his own features with his unoccupied hand. “He’s pretty, and people like pretty people.”

“We’re not pretty and people like _us,_ ” Matsukawa said, taking a big bite of his cookie.

“There’s a difference between pretty and good-looking, and you know that, Mattsun. Pretty, handsome, beautiful, cute, it all means good-looking and I guess people think we’re good-looking.”

Matsukawa hummed to himself.

Iwaizumi sighed. “Let me rephrase. Hanamaki is good-looking, and people like good-looking people. That is why people also like us. According to those people.”

“Nah,” Matsukawa said, scrunching his nose. “I don’t mean to say you’re ugly but it’s probably because he’s kind of pretty and we’re not huge bitches like he is.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “Maybe it’ll get better once he sees you _are_ more than capable.”

Matsukawa scoffed. “Don’t think so. He’s very set on believing I’m an incompetent, immature and idiotic bitch.”

“Then he’s an idiot. Don’t think too much about it.”

“Yeah,” Matsukawa replied, looking out of the window. “Thanks. You’re right. It’ll be fine.”

***

To say that was an overoptimistic statement would be an _understatement._

Hanamaki was, the next class, still being a bitch and wouldn’t answer Matsukawa when he tried to offer ideas and hypotheses. Matsukawa felt himself getting fed up again, but an idea also started to form in his head.

Hanamaki couldn’t curse at him or be rude to him when his entire family was present. Hanamaki was a bitch, but Matsukawa chose to at least trust in his morals and capability of being polite.

The second class was over, Matsukawa grabbed Hanamaki by the arm and pulled him along with him. Because of his shock, Matsukawa didn’t have too much trouble in taking Hanamaki with him until they were standing outside the building. When they were a few meters away from it, Matsukawa could feel Hanamaki start to struggle.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, Matsukawa Issei?” he heard Hanamaki exclaim behind him. He sounded utterly and thoroughly pissed. Matsukawa held back a wince. No, he wasn’t scared of Hanamaki’s reaction when he told him where they were going. Hanamaki wasn’t scary.

Just a little bit…

He was still his project partner, and Matsukawa had to be partly dependent on him to get a good grade. He didn’t want to, of course, but he had no choice. If Hanamaki really decided to fuck Matsukawa over and do it on his own, he was even fully dependent on Hanamaki.

There was no way he’d let that happen.

“We’re going to my place, and we’re going to work on that damn project, and we’re going to fucking do it together, whether you like it or not,” Matsukawa loudly said back to him, not turning around. He hoped Hanamaki wouldn’t get too mad.

The other stopped dead in his tracks, and while Matsukawa was stronger he had to keep it at least a little bit friendly today. It wouldn’t be very good if he pulled Hanamaki to the ground now that he finally had the chance to do something.

“What the fuck?” Hanamaki repeated. “What the _fuck?_ Are you insane? What are you trying to achieve here, you- you… you mental head case! You’re nuts! Just… Just fuck off and let me do my own thing, I want to have nothing to do with you!”

Hanamaki started pulling at his arm, but Matsukawa was stronger and held on. Then he carefully started walking again.

“This isn’t funny, you psychopath! Let me go, are you going insane?”

Matsukawa didn’t let go. He was getting stares from people from all sides of the road, but he ignored them.

Matsukawa Issei was figuratively done with Hanamaki, but not literally. He still needed something from him, and that something was important enough to ignore the weird looks he was getting. He lived very close to the school and the people here knew him. If it had been the other way around, people would’ve called the police on his ass, but these people wouldn’t. He knew that.

An elderly woman walked past and greeted Matsukawa cheerfully, and he recognized her as the sweet widow who lived a few houses down the street from him. He smiled at her, and Hanamaki’s eyes grew wider than saucers.

“Ma’am, please stop him. I think he’s going insane,” he said to the woman, and Matsukawa struggled to keep his laughter in. The woman, as Matsukawa suspected, chuckled and turned to Matsukawa.

“Doesn’t want to play along, that one, I take it?” she asked, amusement seeping through her voice.

“Sadly, no. They have to learn to listen though,” Matsukawa said, smiling innocently at Hanamaki and her.

Hanamaki let out a loud string of curses and started hitting Matsukawa’s shoulder, but he ignored it. The woman smiled so wide the corners of her eyes crinkled up, and she patted both his and Hanamaki’s heads. (Matsukawa leaned down a little for her to do so, so she could reach. If she noticed, she didn’t comment on it.)

“Be a good boy, now, will you?” she then said, turning to Hanamaki. “Little Issei is a good boy, don’t be mean to him.”

Then she turned back to Matsukawa. “I saw the babies go inside the house of those nice people down the street, so you won’t have to worry about them eavesdropping on you two.”

“Thank you, but I’ll go to get them. We’ll just be working on a project.”

“Of course, then I’ll leave you to it. Nice to see you again, sweetie!”

Matsukawa waved the woman goodbye and turned around to Hanamaki, suddenly feeling himself get annoyed.

“You better keep those insults of yours in your fucking mind when we get to my home, I want anything but to let you badly influence the kids. And stop hitting me, it’s not hurting me and you’re just wasting your energy.”

Hanamaki glared at him once more, very, very ferociously, and roughly pulled his wrist out of Matsukawa’s hold. “Fine,” he hissed lowly, and crossed his arms. Matsukawa mentally shrugged and started walking again. It was all up to Hanamaki now. Luckily, he heard the other fall into step slightly behind Matsukawa.

He couldn’t keep a small grin back. Hanamaki was angry. He was _pouting._ Even better, _stomping._ He was almost like Reiji when he was mad.

By some miracle, Matsukawa was followed to the house where the kids were staying by Hanamaki, and to his credit, he didn’t even run when Reiji and Hikaru almost ran him over to get to Matsukawa. Saburo halted next to him and looked up at him with big eyes. Then he turned those eyes to Matsukawa, who smiled at him and turned Hikaru and Reiji to also face Hanamaki.

“Guys, that’s Hanamaki, he’ll come with us for a little bit. Be nice, okay? We have a project we need to work hard on.”

“Will he stay for dinner too?” Reiji asked excitedly, already making his way to Hanamaki. The latter looked like he wanted to step back, but he stayed where he was.

“Hi, I’m Matsukawa Reiji!” Reiji said, thrusting his hand in Hanamaki’s direction. Hanamaki hesitatingly took and shook it, Reiji not waiting a second to grab it tighter, wave goodbye to the couple who had brought them home and started pulling Hanamaki in the direction of their own house.

“Thank you,” Matsukawa quickly said to the couple, who waved him off and closed the door. Then he took Saburo and Hikaru both by one hand and followed Reiji.

“That a Matsukawa thing?” Hanamaki asked when he stopped next to him, sounding grumpy but at least a bit calmer now.

Matsukawa snorted. “No, Reiji just has absolutely no patience. Sorry.”

Hanamaki was bad at masking his shock at Matsukawa’s apology, but Matsukawa decided to not comment on it to save Hanamaki’s dignity. He had to be nice today, or at least try, he chanted to himself. Nice, nice, nice.

This was going to be wild.

***

Hanamaki, surprisingly enough, was keeping his word and didn’t curse once when the kids were around. He did insult Matsukawa once when they were in another room, but Matsukawa let that one slide. He figured it was already hard enough on him to not be a rude bitch when there were young children present.

Besides, he was having a hard time keeping shitty comments inside as well.

Then, about three hours after they sat down and started (individually) writing down possible topics for their project, Reiji came storming into the room.

“Momma’s home!”

Matsukawa frowned. Already? She usually wouldn’t be home in at least another hour, often even several. Was something wrong?

Hanamaki also looked up, successfully distracted by Reiji’s loud voice. Hikaru, who hadn’t moved from her spot at the table on the other side of the room, now walked past them to the door.

“She’s early,” she commented in passing, and Matsukawa could do nothing but nod. This was highly unusual, and Matsukawa felt himself getting worried.

He was probably jumping to conclusions, since she hadn’t said anything about why she was home so early yet, but Matsukawa couldn’t help it. Sure, he was glad she was home for a bit longer than usual. This way she could maybe cook together with the kids, something the kids loved but rarely ever happened. She could play with them, and rest a bit more than usual.

On the other hand… Dad did give them some money, but without his mother’s steady source of income, they wouldn’t be able to last very long. Matsukawa ignored the questioning looks Hanamaki was shooting between Saburo, who hadn’t moved yet, and Matsukawa.

Matsukawa stood up and followed Hikaru to the front door, where Azumi was taking off her shoes.

“Mom?” he said in a questioning voice, and Azumi looked up. There was a smile on her face, but Matsukawa didn’t dare get his hopes up yet.

“I got sent home earlier,” she said, answering Matsukawa’s unasked question. “They said I looked tired, and that it was okay. No worries, Issei.”

Matsukawa let out a small sigh and turned around to walk back to the living room where he assumed Hanamaki was waiting for him to return.

“Oh, right. The project partner is over,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“I don’t like him, momma,” he heard Hikaru say before he walked back into the living room.

Smart girl.

In the living room, Hanamaki was packing his books, putting them back inside his bag and standing up. “I’m out of here, we’ll decide on a topic in class,” he said when he saw Matsukawa enter the room.

“Oh no, you can’t just go,” Matsukawa heard behind him.

_He should’ve known._

His mother stepped out behind him with a cheerful smile on her face, Hikaru next to her clutching tightly onto her hand.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met,” she said, still wearing that warm, welcoming smile of hers, holding out a hand to Hanamaki. He accepted the handshake and shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m Hanamaki Takahiro, we’re on a project together for Phsychology.”

His friendly tone annoyed Matsukawa to no end. How dare he act like a polite, friendly person as soon as his mother stepped a foot inside the house?

“I’m Issei’s mother, Matsukawa Azumi. Call me whatever you like. How’s the project going for you guys?”

“Terribly,” Matsukawa interjected before Hanamaki could say something fake-sweet again. Hanamaki glared at him, and Matsukawa sent a smile back.

“He’s being difficult,” Hanamaki said, shooting another pointed glare at Matsukawa.

“No I’m not, you are,” Matsukawa returned without missing a beat. Azumi laughed.

“I see how it is, you guys will be fine. I’m sure of it.”

Matsukawa ignored the scoffing sound Hanamaki made and grabbed him by the shoulders, turning his body in the direction of the front door.

“Yes, of course. Mom, sorry, Hanamaki was just leaving,” Matsukawa said through gritted teeth. “Weren’t you, _Makki-chan_?”

“You’re not Oikawa, shut the fuck up,” Hanamaki hissed, but he didn’t struggle to walk along this time. Matsukawa assumed he wanted to leave as much as Matsukawa wanted him to go.

“Bye, Makki-chan,” he said a bit too loudly to sound natural, and with one last shove Hanamaki was outside and the door closed.

With a deep sigh, Matsukawa leaned his back against the door, not looking his mother in the eye.

“I don’t like him,” Hikaru said again. Smart girl, Matsukawa thought. Also again.

“Nii-san doesn’t like him,” she continued, “so I don’t like him either.”

Matsukawa smiled despite the frustration that was still coursing through his body and mind.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Azumi said laughing. “I’m sure he’s not that bad. Maybe you two even end up as friends, one day.”

Matsukawa groaned. “Mom, please. Don’t even get me started. That’s… that’s a literal _nightmare,_ I don’t even want to think about the possibility of that happening.”

“That won’t happen,” Hikaru said decidedly. “I don’t like him and nii-san doesn’t like him either. It’s not gonna happen.”

Matsukawa smiled. _Smart girl._


	2. makki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo there will be more full chapter- p.o.v switches throughout the story. just so you know.
> 
> (unedited)  
> (and probably hella messy sorry lol)

Hanamaki felt like he was in jail. Or something. He’d never been to jail, but he imagined it must feel something like this.

It wasn’t that Matsukawa didn’t seem nice. In the beginning, he looked kinda stupid but not a bad person. That opinion changed as soon as the fucker opened his mouth.

Hanamaki had to admit that he wasn’t being the nicest he could be either, but something about Matsukawa Issei just rubbed him in all the wrong ways. Maybe it was because he never failed to be late to class and then fall asleep five minutes in, shoving his stuff halfway onto Hanamaki’s table. Maybe it was because (even though Hanamaki hadn’t either), he’d never said one word to him despite stealing his arm space for half a year.

Those were only _a few_ of the reasons, though.

Matsukawa always walked around campus like he was the next big thing, like he thought he was _the shit_. Almost like he thought and/or knew he owned everyone. Because as much as Hanamaki hated to admit it, despite being popular along with Oikawa, they had to share the spotlight with the other two.

They were almost like these… idealized macho men with muscles and dark hair and strong gazes (eyebrows, pff) and dark clothes with leather jackets. Like they were hot stuff. Or cool.

As if.

Yeah, something about Matsukawa really pissed him off, even before they’d officially met. Hanamaki didn’t know what he was and he didn’t like thinking about it. That equaled thinking about Matsukawa and that was something he wanted to avoid as much as possible now. And for the rest of his life.

That cursed project.

Another thing he hated about Matsukawa with a passion was that he still got decent grades on all his tests despite never doing anything. Hanamaki despised students like him. They showed up, didn’t do anything and still scored well, and every teacher loved them. And then there was Hanamaki, who had genuinely worked his ass off to get into this fucking university and now only half a year in there was this dickwad ruining everything for him.

At least the other students kind of liked him.

Which also wasn’t as nice as it seemed, by the way. Yes, it was easy to spread a word or get something done, and it was kind of a nice feeling when Hanamaki was on the other side of the city and greeted by someone from school who apparently knew him.

It was also fun to see Oikawa deny every confession he got while trying his hardest to not hurt anyone a _nd_ not let his way too obvious gay shine through.

Okay, Oikawa wasn’t gay, but very much men-oriented. Hanamaki wasn’t sure what Oikawa’s sexuality was, and he didn’t think Oikawa knew either, but that didn’t matter. All he knew was that Oikawa didn’t look much at girls. “The long hair seems annoying,” was his excuse.

But, back to his point. Matsukawa Issei was not as nice as you’d think he is with his friendly smiles and leather jackets. No, he was a huge, pissy asshole and Hanamaki loathed his presence.

And his entire being.

And a whole bunch of other stuffs but that was a whole other story for a whole other time.

Currently, Matsukawa was holding him hostage in some stinky library close to the university (just like with the “huh hnng I’m taking you to my home grr” fiasco of the previous week. Hanamaki was still very salty about that), waiting on that stodgy friend of his.

Hanamaki hoped with all his heart that the other one would be less bad than Matsukawa. If not, he would not hesitate to stab him in the throat. Maybe in the eyes? Or he could just go straight for the heart, he had chopsticks in his bag.

He would really do it if Matsukawa didn’t stop smiling that shitty sneery smile at him right _this fucking second-_

“There you are,” a deep voice sounded out behind him, and Hanamaki let out a relieved sigh. Manslaughter wouldn’t look too good on his resume, he feared.

“You must be Hanamaki,” the voice said, and Hanamaki looked up.

“Don’t act dumb, you know who he is,” Matsukawa said laughing, and in an instant, Hanamaki’s mood soured even further.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, and turned to the newcomer. “I’m assuming you’re Iwaizumi?”

The guy (Iwaizumi) nodded and sat down next to Matsukawa (thank god, a face to look at that wasn’t Matsukawa’s). He looked pretty similar to Matsukawa, only less tall and a bit more broad-shouldered. Hanamaki was sure he was taller than Iwaizumi.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said, grabbing his own books, “unless you two aren’t here to study? If you start arguing over useless shit, I’m gone.”

Hanamaki raised one eyebrow and Matsukawa scoffed.

“Like I’d want to talk to him more than needed,” Matsukawa said.

Hanamaki’s frown deepened. “I believe I told you to shut the fuck up? Why are you talking? Iwaizumi said it too.”

“I did, now both of you let me study in peace, please,” Iwaizumi butted in, sounding both amused and annoyed.

Hanamaki decided Iwaizumi also sucked, but a lot less than Matsukawa. Matsukawa was the devil’s incarnate, and Iwaizumi had probably been influenced negatively by him.

At least Iwaizumi put some effort in his school work. Matsukawa was still staring out the windows, fiddling with his fingers like they _didn’t have a project to work on._

Hanamaki bit down the most of his annoyance and sighed deeply.

“Fine then, you work on the hypothesis and I’ll start with some research,” he finally said in the nicest tone he could muster right now, and immediately got to work.

He ignored the small chuckles that came from Iwaizumi as Matsukawa grumbled and got to work as well.

 

“I just… Kyoutani was annoying as fuck, Oikawa. You agree with me on that, right?”

Oikawa nodded with a distasteful expression on his face. “He was a shithead. I’m glad he wasn’t in our year.”

“Yes, yes,” Hanamaki said hurriedly, “but that wasn’t my point. The point _is_ that it’s a crime that you won’t believe me! I swear to everything up there, Matsukawa is a lot worse than Kyoutani ever was.”

“I’ll believe you when I meet him,” Oikawa said in a singsong voice, stuffing another bite of rice in his mouth. “I’ll gladly believe you, but maybe it’s just your shitty face that pissed him off?”

“Haha, fuck you,” Hanamaki droned, rolling his eyes. “Fine, just join us when tomorrow. We’re working on the project again. Maybe Iwaizumi will be there too. He’s… decent.”

“Iwaizumi?”

“Matsukawa’s friend. You know, the other ‘cool guy’ everyone loves, for some godawful reason.”

“Ooh, that Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said, his voice suddenly a lot more quiet. “He’s… yeah, he’s pretty hot. Short, though. Cute.”

Hanamaki looked up and at Oikawa, a disturbed look on his face.

“What?”

“Yeah, please ignore that,” Oikawa said, laughing nervously. He was waving his hands awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure himself why he’d said that and was now trying to wave the moment away. “I don’t know, okay. He’s hot, that’s that. I’ll join you tomorrow.”

Hanamaki looked at Oikawa for a few more seconds and then shrugged. What Oikawa did was Oikawa’s business.

 

“Hi!” Oikawa said cheerily as soon as he saw Matsukawa. “You’re Matsukawa! I’m sure you know me already, Oikawa Tooru is the name.”

Hanamaki jabbed his elbow in Oikawa’s ribs. “Shut up, loser. Don’t act all weird now all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, hi,” Matsukawa said, smiling at Oikawa. That fucker. “Hanamaki hasn’t told me much about you.”

Oikawa looked at Hanamaki and shook his head, sporting a faux hurt look. “I can’t believe Makki-chan would betray me like that. Seriously, Makki, what kind of friend are you?”

Matsukawa and Oikawa got along. Fuck.

Hanamaki suddenly regretted offering Oikawa to let him study with them. This obviously wasn’t going to work in his favor, at all.

“Let’s just… stop talking, okay?” he said, groaning lightly, hoping he looked as annoyed as he felt. He really, really just wanted the project to be over already.

 

“He seemed friendly,” Oikawa said cheerfully that evening. “I mean, not to you, so I can see why you dislike him, but in general he’s a pretty cool dude.”

Hanamaki snorted lightly. “Yeah, exactly. Not to me. And what reason does he have for that?”

Oikawa shot him a discerning look. “It’s not like you were nice to him either.”

“Aside from that.”

Oikawa laughed and shrugged with his shoulders. “A pity his friend wasn’t there, though. All the talk from the girls has made me curious.”

“Maybe next time,” Hanamaki commented offhandedly, and saw Oikawa nodding furiously from the corner of his eyes. Hanamaki resisted the urge to roll his own eyes.

Once Oikawa had set his sights on something (or, in this case, someone) he didn’t let go of it until he knew a yes or no. He was scarily stubborn and would, from now on, probably do everything he could to meet Iwaizumi and get closer to him.

Sometimes Hanamaki wondered if it was a game to Oikawa. He’d done this in high school too, with both a guy and a sport. The kid turned out to be a teammate, and if there was one thing praiseworthy to say about Oikawa, it was that he had sense. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to try anything with a teammate, so he saw that as a no and let go of the idea.

The sport, however… Since one of the two things he’d focused on was now gone, he could focus all his time and energy on the sport, volleyball.

That didn’t end up well.

Oikawa got insecure, got too competitive, worked too hard. In the process, he ruined his knee and moreover, all his chances to ever make it as a college player or even a professional athlete. So, instead of playing the sport himself, he now focused on writing about it and it was working out pretty well for him.

Hanamaki was glad it had turned out like this. If Oikawa had gone on to be a college player, he would’ve worked himself into the ground. Then, the results would possibly be even more devastating. Now, Oikawa could at least still walk, and run, and jump, and move around semi-freely. Hanamaki was afraid that, had Oikawa kept playing, he wouldn’t have hesitated to damage his legs even further.

Maybe even to the point of no return.

Oikawa’s obsessive episodes were dangerous, and Hanamaki had made it his personal task to keep Oikawa from falling into them. Oikawa never meant to, but if he fell into one, Hanamaki was afraid he could easily become a danger to himself.

He hoped Iwaizumi wouldn’t inflict one on Oikawa.

As friendly as Iwaizumi had seemed, and as good a proper relationship of mutual trust and understanding could be for Oikawa, Hanamaki didn’t yet trust anyone else to do the job but himself.

Not that Oikawa needed a babysitter. Not at all. He just… needed someone he could fall back on if things got rough. Hanamaki was glad to be that someone for Oikawa.

With Oikawa ruining his knee, the two had already been through a lot together, and there were no secrets between them.

None at all.

That’s why Hanamaki wasn’t too surprised at Oikawa’s choice. Iwaizumi was, as Hanamaki knew, exactly Oikawa’s type.

Shorter than Oikawa, short dark hair, strong facial features, fit or even muscular body…

If that wasn’t Iwaizumi, Hanamaki didn’t know who was. On top of that, Iwaizumi had somewhat different skin tone than most other Japanese men and not the typical dark brown eyes, but more a green-ish hue, which meant he was possibly biracial.

Another thing that was on Oikawa’s list. Not a must, but something he liked. For some reason. Hanamaki preferred a Japanese partner.

 

Oikawa wanted to meet Iwaizumi, and was now pestering Hanamaki about it. Hanamaki really, really didn’t feel like letting Oikawa get his way. Iwaizumi had seemed like a nice guy, and while Oikawa wasn’t as bad as he sometimes seemed, he didn’t want to let Oikawa loose on the poor guy without warning him at least a little bit.

He’d have to advise him to tell Oikawa a clear ‘no’ right from the start. Maybe then, Oikawa would leave him alone and not bother Hanamaki when he was supposed to be working on his part of the project.

Matsukawa had already sent a draft of his part to Hanamaki so he could read through it and know what they had to work on next time they went to the library, and reading it was not making Hanamaki happy right now.

Why?

Matsukawa had proved him wrong. Matsukawa explained things clearly, had sensible ideas and his draft was clear and not too complicated. Matsukawa was intelligent, and knew how to use that intelligence.

It proved everything Hanamaki had ever said to and about Matsukawa wrong, and Hanamaki didn’t like being wrong. Especially not when there was clear proof against him. He felt his distaste towards Matsukawa grow with every cleverly constructed sentence he read, until he had to put it to the side.

How dared he? How dared Matsukawa do nothing at all during the lectures and still grasp the material so well? How did he still know everything? Where did he find the time to do all this? Hanamaki had always assumed he didn’t do much at home either.

Now that he’d been to Matsukawa’s home and had seen the three younger siblings without a parent in sight, Hanamaki felt kind of… forced to feel admiration for Matsukawa.

He didn’t want to.

Okay, yes. Maybe the work he did was good, and maybe he was intelligent, but he was still the biggest asshole. And only to Hanamaki, at that (though that only made it worse)!

There was no way Matsukawa could ever find out what Hanamaki had discovered. Not as long as Hanamaki was alive. He’d only get a big head from it, Hanamaki said to himself. It’d only make him more arrogant and pretentious than he already was.

But, back to Oikawa. He literally wouldn’t _shut up about Iwaizumi_ and Hanamaki was getting tired of it.

The worst was that it was all indirect. Oikawa wouldn’t lower himself to fanboying. Especially not in public, or anyone else who wasn’t Hanamaki. No, it was all indirect. Comments hinting at letting him join more of their study sessions, hinting at what his type was again…

Hanamaki was getting tired of it. Had Oikawa demanded for him to introduce him and Iwaizumi to each other, okay. He would’ve been able to handle that. Maybe. This, however, was incredibly frustrating and Hanamaki was fed up.

“Don’t you get lonely sometimes, Makki-chan?” Oikawa piped up from the other side of the room, lying on his back on Hanamaki’s bed with his legs propped up against the wall. Hanamaki only grunted in response. Oikawa took that as enough of a cue to continue talking.

“Because, you know, your track record is… Well, a long list, but you’ve been alone for a while now. And when I leave in a minute, you’ll be all on your own in this shabby apartment. Don’t you want to find someone to date?”

He then threw a sideway glance to Hanamaki. He already knew what was coming next, and started mentally preparing himself for the annoyance Oikawa would be when he agreed.

A man could only handle so much.

“I mean,” Oikawa then continued, “I barely have had any relationships, but I know I’d love to be in one. Maybe- ”

Hanamaki knew where this was going. He could recite Oikawa’s next words without having heard them. It was exactly the same every time he tried. ‘Maybe a guy who’s a bit shorter than me, but stronger. I’d like that. And- ’

No, Hanamaki was not dealing with that now. He refused.

“Fine, I’ll let you come along next time,” he said, interrupting Oikawa before his vague rant could begin. “Then if we’re both lucky Iwaizumi will be there and you can meet, but don’t expect anything.”

Oikawa fell quiet and let out a small ‘oh’. Then he chuckled and stood up from the bed with some struggle. Hanamaki pretended he didn’t see it, not wanting to hurt Oikawa’s pride even further.

“Well, I guess I could’ve expected that from you, Makki,” he said cheerily, “you know me _too_ well.”

“I agree,” Hanamaki mumbled in a tone so low Oikawa couldn’t understand it.

It was a joke, of course. He wasn’t just Oikawa’s best friend. Oikawa was also his. They acted like they got annoyed by the other a lot, but there were no secrets between them. Oikawa and Hanamaki shared _everything._ Hanamaki had seen more of Oikawa then he ever could’ve (wanted to) imagine back when they met in middle school.

“Well then, I’ll be leaving.”

Hanamaki looked up and turned around to wave Oikawa out of his room. “What are you waiting for, go away. You know the way out.”

“Yeah yeah, you love me,” Oikawa said jokingly, sending a wink Hanamaki’s way. “You, my man,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the room, “You’re a good man. You will be blessed in the future.”

Hanamaki snorted and kicked his door shut behind Oikawa.

What to do with that guy? Now he had to introduce them. He _couldn’t wait._

Two days later, Hanamaki and Oikawa walked into the library, on their way to the table in the back of the library that had sadly enough become _their_ table. Matsukawa was already there, and Hanamaki considered turning back around when he saw a now familiar pair of broad shoulders and short spiky hair sitting next to Matsukawa.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, and walked faster. Maybe he could still say sorry to Iwaizumi without Oikawa overhearing. He’d definitely get offended about that, and get pouty, and salty, and he’d become even more annoying. Hanamaki didn’t want to subject Iwaizumi to _that_ side of Oikawa. Not yet, and if luck was in Iwaizumi’s favor _never._

Okay, now he was exaggerating. Hanamaki knew that. Oikawa was maybe a pain in the ass sometimes, but he was great.

Really.

Sometimes.

While Hanamaki got lost in his own thought, he didn’t notice they had already reached the two. No way out now.

“Hi there,” he said in a monotone, bored voice. “Sorry, had to babysit Oikawa today so I couldn’t come without him.”

Matsukawa turned around, looking disturbed and annoyed. Good.

Iwaizumi also turned around, smiling at Hanamaki and Oikawa. Iwaizumi was definitely a better man than Matsukawa. “I don’t think we’ve officially met before,” he said to Oikawa, still smiling that stupidly charming smile.

Hanamaki could almost feel Oikawa melting beside him at that charm being directed at him. It was disgusting, and Iwaizumi probably didn’t suspect a thing.

“Um- yeah, I’m Oikawa Tooru, Hanamaki’s best friend. Nice to meet you!” Oikawa replied, smiling sweetly back at Iwaizumi. Hanamaki knew that smile. It was the fake one, the one he used to charm the pants off the girls on campus without that even being his intentions, damn it.

Iwaizumi didn’t seem impressed. “Iwaizumi Hajime, Matsukawa’s best friend. You’re coming to study with us?”

Oikawa looked between Hanamaki and Matsukawa and nodded cheerfully. “I figured you might need some help making sure these two don’t bite each other’s heads off.”

Hanamaki rolled his eyes and jabbed his elbow into Oikawa’s ribs, and sat down on Matsukawa’s other side. “Don’t say stupid things, idiot.”

Matsukawa scoffed softly. “Who knows,” he mumbled under his breath in Hanamaki’s direction, “I might just do it if this bullshit goes on for any longer. They better don’t hit it off or I’m murdering Oikawa.”

Hanamaki clicked his tongue. “What a miracle, we agree on something.”

Wordlessly, Oikawa sat down next to Hanamaki, and they went to work.

A few minutes in, Oikawa’s phone started buzzing. Non-stop. They ignored it, but after it stopped for a minute, it just came back. Oikawa got a few more messages, and then his phone started buzzing for real.

Hanamaki sighed. “Just take it, Oikawa. The buzzing is more annoying than you talking.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa said, and he quickly unlocked his phone and scrolled through the messages. Hanamaki almost went back to work, until he saw Oikawa’s face suddenly turned considerably pale. His eyes widened, and briefly, a look of panic settled in them. Hanamaki frowned and put down his pen.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa’s breathing turned heavier for a few seconds. He swallowed loudly and shook his head. The “fuck” he forced out was almost inaudible.

Hanamaki was getting worried now. “Oikawa, what’s wrong?”

It also caught Matsukawa’s and Iwaizumi’s attention, and the two looked over with concerned looks on their faces. “Is everything alright?” Iwaizumi asked softly, to which Matsukawa shrugged.

Oikawa took a few deep breaths and forced a smile onto his face. It was shaky, and too fake to be even a little bit believable. “It’s…” he tried, but his voice cracked. “It’s nothing,” he tried again, his voice weak. “Just my grandma.”

“Is everything okay?” Iwaizumi asked again, a small frown on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m- Everything is perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, I just- I just panicked for a second, I’m okay, I-” Oikawa rambled, stumbling over his words a few times while he hastily packed his bag again. “Something happened, it’s all fine, my grandma is just- yeah, I have to go. Bye!”

Then Oikawa fleed. For Hanamaki, time stopped for a few seconds. “Fuck indeed,” he then said, surprised at how shaky his own voice sounded.

Oikawa’s grandma was not a very positive thing, for both of them.

Hanamaki had only met her a few times, but she had left a few very strong and negative memories with Hanamaki. She was a true Oikawa; blunt and honest, with strong opinions. Oikawa himself did too, but he was at least able to stay rational. For his grandma, those traits were so distinct it was on the negative side.

She was, to put it shortly, bigoted, rude, racist and hateful to anything and everything that didn’t appease her. Tooru’s mother had his sister at a very young age, and his grandmother had never liked her. The fact that her son had married her at such a young age, and even had two kids with her, only made her more angry at Tooru’s mother. She took it out on Tooru, his sister, his nephew and everything the three of them did.

Also on Hanamaki.

She visited the family a few times, and Hanamaki had only seen her a few times, but all those times she had only cursed Tooru and his sister and Hanamaki himself out. She didn’t have one nice word for them. She _hated_ them, and was not at all afraid to show it.

She called Tooru the family’s mistake, especially after his injuries. She hated on the fact that he, according to her, ‘couldn’t even do that one thing he was kind of good at right’. According to her, Tooru was ‘too stupid to ever achieve anything’. According to her, Tooru was ‘a disgusting brat who never should’ve been born, just like that scum of a sister.’

It only got worse after he came out to his family, and she caught wind of it. All hell broke loose in their family, and Tooru was on the short end of all the loathing his grandma had left.

Then she officially met Hanamaki at a birthday. He’d wore all his piercings, because he’d just gotten a new one and was proud of them. Oikawa’s sister loved them. He had also recently dyed his hair a _little_ bit more pinkish (his natural hair color was already a pinkish brown, and he liked dying it more pink. It suited him). Oikawa’s mother adored his hair color.

His grandmother hated it. and Hanamaki. And everything about him, and Tooru, and their friendship. In the beginning she even made crude remarks about them being boyfriends, and called them disgusting fags. Only after Oikawa’s mom had ensured her that they were just friends, childhood friends even, she dropped that.

She never dropped all the other hate she’d formed for Hanamaki.

If something had happened to his grandma… With the look on Oikawa’s face, Hanamaki could only imagine it was in her favor.

That was not a good thing at all.

And just like that, all of Hanamaki’s concentration flew out of the window. He shook himself from his thoughts and turned to Matsukawa and Iwaizumi. They looked confused, but not mad at being interrupted.

Hanamaki took a deep breath. He’d sit through this study session, he’d show some good work, and then he’d go see Oikawa. Ask him what had happened. Maybe comfort him if needed.

“Are you okay? You spaced out big time there,” Iwaizumi asked, leaning over the table to look Hanamaki in the eyes.

Hanamaki nodded, turning back to his books, ignoring the curious looks Matsukawa was shooting him. “I think I know what happened, but I don’t know how bad it is. He’ll be fine,” he then replied.

“That’s good,” Iwaizumi said, “but that wasn’t my question. How are _you_? Sorry, but you look a bit shaken yourself.”

Hanamaki sent him a small smile. “I’m fine. I’m not… exactly sure how this will affect Oikawa, but.. It’s okay. Don’t worry and just get back to work, or something. We’re not made of feathers, we can handle something.”

“If you say so,” Iwaizumi said, not sounding convinced at all. He did listen to Hanamaki, and turned back to whatever he’d been working on. When Hanamaki looked at Matsukawa, the guy was already leafing through the pages of his book again. It relieved Hanamaki, but also annoyed him. He was glad Matsukawa wasn’t making a fuss about the whole drama, which would’ve only pissed Hanamaki off, but was it really that hard to show _some_ concern?

Hanamaki huffed and turned back to his own work.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. He wasn’t able to fully focus on the work again, and constantly felt some nagging worry in the back of his head.

When it was finally 5 PM, their agreed finishing time, Hanamaki bolted off, still stuffing his books back into his bags as he powerwalked out of the library. On the train, he quickly shot Oikawa a text asking if it was okay to come over.

When Hanamaki arrived at Oikawa’s house, there was still no reply.

For a second, Hanamaki pondered turning back and just going home, hoping Oikawa would be fine by himself and that the situation wasn’t too bad.

It was not like Oikawa to not respond to Hanamaki’s messages. Something big had to be up for him to straight up ignore the texts.

Making a final decision, Hanamaki pressed the doorbell. He was greeted by his mother’s voice.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her tone friendly but cautious. She sounded… unhappy. Hanamaki knew her almost as well as he knew Oikawa. She was like his second mother. This place was his second home. The idea that there was something wrong with his own second family without him being there, felt indescribably wrong.

“It’s me,” he said, remembering he hadn’t responded yet.

“Oh, Takahiro,” she said, sounding nervous at the announcement of his arrival.

“Oikawa looked very shocked at the messages,” he quickly said before she could say anything else. “What happened? He just… looked sick all of a sudden, and ran.”

“Yeah, it’s… I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you in right now, Takahiro. I’m sorry but…”

“He also mentioned his grandma,” Hanamaki interrupted carefully. “Did something happen to her?”

Oikawa Ayame let out a sigh on the other side. “Well… yeah. Her house burnt down.”

Hanamaki wasn’t sure what to say to that. She hadn’t said anything about the woman herself, but…

“I wished she burnt down with it,” she then said, and despite his worry, Hanamaki had to bite back a laugh. “She made it out but now she needs a place to stay and I’m very afraid to tell you it’s going to be with us.”

Hanamaki’s amusement immediately went away.

The witch was going to live with Oikawa. In one house. For who knew how long.

“Seriously?” he asked uncertainly. He hoped with all his heart that Ayame was messing with him, but her next words ruined that hope immediately.

“No, she’s staying here now.”

Hanamaki turned around looking at the other side of the street. It was empty. He kind of wanted to run, but he couldn’t. This was also his family. Kind of.

“And now?” he asked then.

“She hasn’t said too much, but… Tooru looked at her once, froze up and ran upstairs a few seconds after. He hasn’t come down yet and I’m getting worried, but I don’t want to leave Hana and Takeru alone with the witch for too long.”

“Then what are you doing now? Open the door for me, and go back to Hana. I’ll go check on Tooru.” Hanamaki said, letting his worry sip through in his voice.

Ayame let out a sigh in relief and mumbled some unintelligible words, and then she appeared outside, quickly running to open the gate for Hanamaki. He followed her inside and flinched unconsciously at the sight of two large suitcases, lying against the wall in the hallway.

So, she really was here…

He took off his shoes and went straight for the stairs. He _really_ didn’t want to see the old woman now. Practically everyone in the family called her a witch, even though most of them agreed with her views.  That’s how bad she was. Even if you agreed with everything she said, it was undeniable that she was an unreasonable person.

The fact that she was going to be staying here with Tooru around, didn’t sit right with Hanamaki at all. If Oikawa was already reacting to her arrival like this…

This was not good at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a bit shorter than the first one, i'm not gonna set a word count for the chapters. i'll just see how long i manage to make them.  
> hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello sorry i went through hell and back take this i still had it in my word doc  
> i hope i'll be able to make myself write more in the foreseeable future but im yeah i promise it wont be 6 months again but 3 is acceptable right

Three weeks later, their project was going well and Matsukawa thought they were now close to finishing it. Then, they would turn it in and never speak again.

Matsukawa didn’t mind that idea too much. Especially since, despite always talking shit about Matsukawa, Hanamaki had been awfully distracted lately. His work was only half as good as it was when they just started, and every little task took him days instead of hours. It annoyed Matsukawa. He’d judged Matsukawa so harshly in the beginning, and was now doing even worse himself.

He had gotten less snappy, though, which was a positive thing. Probably. Or maybe he was too tired to really get mad with Matsukawa like before. He had been looking very tired.

Matsukawa wasn’t _worried,_ but it did make him curious. Hanamaki liked to make himself seem unshakable, but something had obviously upset him and Matsukawa was curious about what had managed to do that. He had thought Hanamaki would be too vain to let the exhaustion show under his eyes, or too proud to let his usual attitude slip.

Matsukawa thought that might be because he was so tired, too.

He wasn’t worried about Hanamaki, but he _was_ worried about the project. So far, it was looking pretty good, but if Hanamaki kept up this low performance… He didn’t know how good the conclusion would turn out. After all, that was all they had left to write, but also something their professor would be very strict with. It was, according to her, the most important part of a good essay.

Matsukawa didn’t really know or care about how that worked, but he wasn’t the one who would grade it. They would have to appeal to their professor.

That evening, they had a short study session, and Hanamaki looked even more stressed out than usual. Iwaizumi wasn’t there, and Oikawa wasn’t either. Now that Matsukawa thought about it, he hadn’t seen Oikawa again after he suddenly left, weeks ago.

Weird.

“You look like shit,” was the first thing he said when Hanamaki sat down next to him.

“Wow, what a charmer you are,” Hanamaki responded dully, and Matsukawa frowned. It was what he’d usually say, but with a lot less bite to it. He knew Hanamaki hadn’t softened up to him.

It must really be the exhaustion. Or maybe stress. Maybe even both.

He wasn’t worried.

“I wasn’t aware I was trying to charm you,” Matsukawa returned, and Hanamaki only scoffed in response.

“Lucky me.”

“Jesus, what has been wrong with you lately? You’re like a walking corpse,” Matsukawa said with the frown still on his face, unable to keep it in.

“Aw, are you concerned about me?” Hanamaki said, a little bit of a teasing lilt appearing in his voice.

Still no bite. This wasn’t Hanamaki.

Who had replaced him? Who took him?

“I’m more concerned about our grade, jackass,” Matsukawa said. “Your work has been shit and you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Maybe that’s because I haven’t slept much, genius,” Hanamaki snapped. _That was more like it._ “And don’t worry about the fucking grade. My work was good and I guess yours was decent as well. It’ll be okay.”

Well. Never mind.

“You’re being weird,” Matsukawa said, not looking at Hanamaki. “Who took control of your body? Are you still somewhere in there?”

Hanamaki wordlessly slapped the back of his head and turned around to get his laptop out of his bag.

They worked soundlessly for a few minutes. Then the curiosity finally got the best (worst?) of Matsukawa.

“So…” he started, “I haven’t seen Oikawa again after the five minutes he sat with us a few weeks ago. How has he been?”

Hanamaki tensed. _Bingo._

“Well, why don’t you.. ask him yourself? I’m sure he’d _love_ to hear from you.”

“I don’t have his contacts and you know that, genius. Just tell me, or did something happen? Why did he run off anyway? You said it’d be okay.” Matsukawa fired back.

Hanamaki sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his fingers.

He looked exhausted.

“No, he hasn’t been fine and it’s making me stressed,” Hanamaki then said.

Matsukawa wanted to laugh, but then he heard Hanamaki’s serious tone. Hanamaki was being honest with him?

This must be more serious than he thought. Shit.

“What happened?” Matsukawa asked carefully.

“Some family issues,” Hanamaki said, gesturing vaguely at the air around him. “You better not be homophobic.”

Matsukawa snorted, despite the seriousness of Hanamaki’s tone. “Dude, I’m gay. It’d be pretty stupid if I were homophobic.”

Hanamaki shrugged. “How could I know? It’s not like I’m interested enough in your existence to want to know those things. But, to put it shortly, Oikawa is also partly attracted to men and his grandma is extremely homophobic and hates everything and everyone. The witch burnt her house down, and she’s living at Oikawa’s family’s place until it’s fixed. Knowing her, she’ll have a lot of stuff to bitch about. She’s gonna be there for a while, and we’re both pretty stressed because of that.”

All Matsukawa could say about this was that he was very shocked at Hanamaki’s immediate honesty. _Showed how put out he really was by the fiasco. Under normal circumstances he never would’ve told Matsukawa a word about all this._

“Oh,” was all he said out loud. “Shit, man.”

“Why am I even telling you this?” Hanamaki groaned to himself, rubbing his temples again. “It’s not like you have anything to do with it or can do anything to change it. I can’t either.”

Matsukawa huffed softly. “I don’t think anyone can, I was just saying it’s really shit. We’re not friends but I’m still allowed to feel sorry for someone.”

“I guess,” Hanamaki mumbled, sitting up. “Sorry, but I can’t think straight right now. I promise I’ll finish my part on time.”

“You better,” Matsukawa grumbled back, and stood up. “Well, if we’re not working now, I guess I’m done here.”

The project was due in a week, and they were almost finished. Matsukawa didn’t really have any reason to trust Hanamaki, but he decided to do it anyway. Let the guy prove that he was still able of doing something right.

And that situation with Oikawa… Matsukawa was so, so glad he never had contact with anyone of his family. They’d never come to their place, not even if something was wrong. Usually he hated it as much as he hated his family for being like that, but when he heard this he could only feel relieved he had no ties to his shit family.

Oikawa had seemed friendly in the two minutes they’d been together. Matsukawa wouldn’t mind being friends with Oikawa all that much.

The only problem was that becoming friends with Oikawa would without a doubt mean Hanamaki would be around too. Matsukawa never wanted a reason to speak with Hanamaki again.

***

Two weeks later, they were about to get their project with a grade back.

In the end, Hanamaki managed to finish his load a few days before the due date, which gave them some time to put everything together and edit some things. In the week after, they hadn’t spoken once. Matsukawa was happy with that change. If it was up to him, everything between them would stay like that.

Just two guys who sat next to each other but hated each other even more than they hated the class and never spoke.

Matsukawa turned to Hanamaki, who was slouching in his chair, eyes following the professor like a hawk. “Hey,” he said, and Hanamaki looked annoyed when he turned his head to Matsukawa. Like always.

“We’ll have to set some things straight,” Matsukawa continued, “about after the project.”

“Like what?” Hanamaki said in a bored tone.

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page. Could you sound any less hostile?”

“No. And I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page about this. Never speak again, avoid each other at all costs and make sure we never have to work together again,” Hanamaki droned.

Matsukawa nodded. “I have something to add though. We can’t risk anything, so let’s also agree to never let Oikawa and Iwaizumi meet again.”

Hanamaki pulled up one eyebrow. “Why would I? They’ve been introduced to each other already, so if Oikawa seeks Iwaizumi out I can’t just tell him not to. It’s their lives.”

Matsukawa sighed. “I know, I know, but… just think about it. Oikawa is your best friend. Iwaizumi is my best friend. If they became friends, there’s no doubt they’d drag us along and that would mean forced interaction. We both don’t want that, so let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen.”

The professor then stopped at their tables and dropped a paper on it.

It was a filled out assessment form. Their grade was in the upper right corner of the sheet. They got 82.

Yū.

Woah.

“So you are capable of some good, after all,” Hanamaki remarked.

“Shut up you asshole, I was never uncapable. That’s just your shit ass talking.”

Matsukawa knew those were both shit insults, but he didn’t care. He was too happy with the grade to really pay attention to Hanamaki and his annoying persona.

“I agree, by the way,” Hanamaki then said, facing the front again, a bored expression still on his face. It pissed Matsukawa off. Everything about Hanamaki did, but that stupid expression the most. “Let’s not take any risks and keep them apart as much as we can.”

“That won’t be too hard,” Matsukawa scoffed, “don’t think I’ll ever come within a 5-meter radius of you again. I don’t want to subject my sanity to that terror.”

***

Matsukawa hadn’t lied, and he was happy to see Hanamaki hadn’t either. They hadn’t spoken once, and as far as he knew Oikawa and Iwaizumi hadn’t either. Matsukawa had seen Oikawa in the hallways, but hadn’t spoken to him either.

Now, he was at a party close to Iwaizumi’s apartment. The neighbors had been so nice to look after the kids, so he could go to a party (he went to one maybe… once a year?) without having to worry about them.

He was on the lookout though, and it was not making the party fun. He was hellbent on not running into Hanamaki, or letting Iwaizumi run into Oikawa. Or Hanamaki.

What he hadn’t counted on, however, was to be run over by a highly intoxicated Oikawa, who surprisingly enough still recognized him.

“Matt- Mattsun that’s you right?” Oikawa slurred, laughing just too loudly for it to sound as pleasant as his laugh usually did. He draped his body over Matsukawa’s shoulder and looked up at him. Matsukawa felt like he was staring straight into his soul. His eyes looked… intense.

“If by Mattsun you mean Matsukawa, then yes, that’s me. Hi, Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, struggling to not smile. Drunk Oikawa seemed like a riot.

“Great! Great, that’s really good. You’re really good, Mattsun! I really don’t get why my dear Makki-chan hates you so much. He’s probably just jealous that you’re better looking than him,” Oikawa chattered cheerfully. “Is Iwa-chan also here?”

Ah, there it was. Matsukawa resolutely shook his head, but Oikawa didn’t look disappointed.

“Oh, okay!” he said, surprisingly coherently for someone who was (with the way he was staggering and leaning heavily on Matsukawa and still sipping from his drink that looked a bit too much like a mixture of all sorts of alcohol) very drunk. “Then I can talk to you about him, ‘cause, y’know, he’s hella pretty right?”

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow, but Oikawa didn’t need to see it to continue blabbing.

“Did you even see his arms? Wait, yes, of course you did. I’m sure you’ve seen more than that too. Tell me everything later! I’m way too drunk to remember anything now. He’s sooo dreamy, Mattsun, that Iwa-chan of yours, and I’m sure you’re not dating because not a lot of people here are gay or like dudes, y’know, but Iwa-chan is very dreamy and his arms are very good and his hair makes him look like a tiny little hedgehog. He’s so small! It’s so cute, Mattsun please hook me up?”

After Oikawa’s rant, the guy blinked a few times at Matsukawa, his eyes huge and his mouth formed into a little pout.

What the hell was going on. What was Oikawa talking about? Iwaizumi?

Did Oikawa have the hots for Iwaizumi?

No.

No no no. This couldn’t happen. Not when he and Hanamaki had agreed to never speak again and make sure Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn’t either.

Matsukawa pulled away from Oikawa with a warm smile. Oikawa probably wouldn’t notice in his intoxicated state, but he wanted to hide his mental panic anyway.

“Mattsun?” Oikawa said, “did you hear me? I’m sure you did. Iwa-chan! Can you introduce us again? He’s really--- really cute and he’s got good arms and I’d like to woo his pants off of him!”

“God, that’s gross,” Matsukawa replied disgustedly, gently pushing Oikawa away when he got a bit too close for comfort again. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“I’m soo drunk, Mattsun,” Oikawa giggled, “you can’t blame me, I— I don’t even know what I’m saying! Right, but how about Iwa-chan?”

Matsukawa sighed as he quickly thought over the possible outcomes of his (rather limited) options. He could bring Oikawa home and hope he forgot all about it the next morning, but he doubted that would work. Matsukawa barely knew Oikawa, but he’d heard enough. Oikawa might’ve sometimes seemed a bit like it, but he definitely wasn’t stupid. Also, if this had been on his mind for all that time since they met the first time, there was no way he’d forgotten about it after one drunk night.

His second option was bringing Oikawa home and completely ignoring him. again, Matsukawa had heard enough of Oikawa to know that wouldn’t work. Oikawa was, as many had told him, a crafty guy. He’d probably find a way to get to Matsukawa or even Iwaizumi himself if Matsukawa didn’t give or promise him one soon.

His third option was re-introducing them, which didn’t seem to bad, but carried a huge risk. Matsukawa knew Iwaizumi wasn’t a guy who did hook ups, nor a guy who got crushes easily. Still, Oikawa was Oikawa. If anyone would be able to charm the “pants off of him”, it had to be Oikawa. Matsukawa was sad to admit it, but Oikawa was totally Iwaizumi’s type. Athletic, tall and pretty, but fierce.

This could either lead to a peaceful friendship or relationship with no Hanamaki involved (which was an unrealistic dream, but Matsukawa didn’t want to rule out the possibility just yet), no friendship and life like always or complete, utter disaster.

The last option was the most likely, but the second the one that sounded the least... dangerous. This was a tough situation.

Matsukawa cleared his throat, grabbing Oikawa by the arm. “How about I take you to my place and you can crash there, and we’ll talk tomorrow. Does that sound good?”

Oikawa beamed at Matsukawa and slumped against his side. “Perfect!” he almost chirped, and Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

It was not.

 

The next morning, to Matsukawa’s surprise, he wasn’t woken up by Reiji’s loud voice or the sounds of things falling down or breaking, but Oikawa’s groaning. Matsukawa then remembered what had happened the night before, and he grinned. Oikawa was probably extremely hungover, with how drunk he’d been (seemed) earlier. Served him right.

“Mattsun, please tell me I’m dreaming and I didn’t tell you anything last night?” Oikawa said with a whiny, pained sound to his voice as his eyes fell on and recognized Matsukawa.

“Isn’t it a bit risky to go home with a guy you’ve only met once before?” Matsukawa said, ignoring Oikawa’s question.

“You’re Iwa-chan’s friend, and we’ve met. That’s enough proof you’re a good guy to me,” Oikawa said, waving Matsukawa’s question away. “Now please answer my question so I know whether I need to start digging my own grave soon or not.”

“Better start on it right now, then,” Matsukawa said, still grinning. He lied back on his bed. “But I’ll relay the message to Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa let out a(n overdramatic) gasp and looked up at Matsukawa, his mouth and eyes wide open. “No!” he exclaimed. “Or.. At least first tell me what I said!”

Matsukawa looked at Oikawa, who was still lying down on a mattress on Matsukawa’s bedroom floor.

“Oh, Mattsun,” he moaned teasingly, “my dear Iwa-chan has such hot arms, and he’s so cute, like a hedgehog! He’s so cute, I want to seduce him, Mattsun!”

“No…” Oikawa said with a long, slow exhale. “No, no, you’re just fucking with me. Get to it, Mattsun, don’t be a dick to me. I did nothing wrong, not like Makki-chan. Tell me the truth, what did I say?”

“All of that,” Matsukawa said shortly, showing Oikawa no mercy. “Oh, and you also asked me to hook you up with him, and said he’s dreamy twice in one sentence.”

Oikawa stared up at Matsukawa in horror for a few seconds. Then he looked at the ceiling, eyes big and unbelieving. Matsukawa almost felt sorry for the guy.

Almost.

“I can’t believe I said that,” he whispered.

“Why, was it a lie?” Matsukawa asked sharply. It would be hell if Oikawa and Iwaizumi really clicked, but for some reason the idea of Oikawa just saying those things in a drunk mood frustrated him even more. Iwaizumi _was_ a dreamy handsome man, after all, and he deserved all that praise.

Even if it was from Oikawa and worded the way Oikawa did.

Maybe.

“No!” Oikawa blurted out. As soon as the word was out, he slapped his hands over his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned, turning around on the mattress and shoving his face into the pillow. “You must think I’m such a tool for saying things like that.”

Matsukawa scoffed. “You were drunk. I don’t blame you for thinking like that, and I can’t blame you for saying things without thinking when you’re piss drunk, but I am pissed at the thought of Hanamaki’s friend being thirsty for my best friend. You’re decent, so far, but Hanamaki…”

Oikawa chuckled hesitantly. “So you wouldn’t be mad if I talked to Iwaizumi?”

“Only if you hurt him or take Hanamaki with you. Seriously, if you do any of those I’ll throw you off a bridge and for the second I’ll jump after you.”

Oikawa laughed again, this time sounding a bit less nervous. “Okay,” he said, “you’ll have to re-introduce us, though. I’m not walking up to him by myself.”

“No way,” Matsukawa immediately protested, “I made a deal with Hanamaki for the greater good to not introduce you two again so we can keep apart, and I’m not breaking it. I’m not gonna risk seeing or speaking with Hanamaki again just so you can thirst after Iwaizumi in person instead of in your mind.”

It was silent for a while.

“You know,” Oikawa then said quietly, but with an amused lilt in his tone, “I bet that if you and Hanamaki got over the bad blood that somehow formed between you two, you’d get along so well you two are too similar for your own good. I’d have to watch my back at all times.”

Oikawa shuddered visibly. “No, better make sure that doesn’t happen. I’d be a dead man.”

Matsukawa let out a relieved sigh. “Yeah, I completely agree with you. It’d be a _very_ bad idea to let Hanamaki near me. I suggest you don’t do it. Keep him away from me.”

Oikawa laughed and shook his head. “Watch it, that’s still my best friend you’re talking about. You might not like him, but he’s great.”

Matsukawa hummed noncommittally. “To you, maybe. I don’t really care about him or whatever he does, and he pisses me off, so I’d rather not put up with him and his shit.”

Oikawa shrugged and stood up. “We’ll see what happens,” he said ominously. Matsukawa didn’t like his tone. He said it like he knew something. Like he knew _more_ about Matsukawa than Matsukawa knew himself, despite having only meeting him twice.

“Yeah, good luck with your stupid gay stuff,” Matsukawa said halfheartedly, also standing up. “But remember to never, ever mention me or me letting you do your thing if Hanamaki starts bitching. Just pretend I didn’t know. I’m sure you can come up with something. Just don’t mention me.”

“Sure,” Oikawa said, waving his hands dismissively. “I’m not too sure why, but whatever. As long as I can get a chance to talk to Iwa-chan.”

“That’s gay,” Matsukawa said. “Don’t let him hear you call Iwa-chan. He might be a softie deep inside, but he doesn’t look like that for nothing. He could probably throw you pretty far. On second thought, do call him that, but do it when I’m around. I’d like to see how far exactly he can throw you.”

“That’s hot,” Oikawa said with a grin, and Matsukawa scrunched up his nose to express the disgust he was feeling.

“Jesus, please tone it down a bit. I don’t want to hear about your wild, sexy dreams with Iwaizumi.”

“Ah, I’ll shut up then,” Oikawa said, grin still in place. “I’ll use that as my cue to leave. I’ve still got an essay to finish.”

“Yeah,” Matsukawa said, following Oikawa downstairs. “You don’t need breakfast? There’s no way you’re not hungover.”

“I am,” Oikawa said simply, “but I’ll survive. I’ve got enough food at home, I’ll be fine. Thanks for offering, though. I’ll be out of your hair now, bye!”

Oikawa waved and left through the front door, waving at Matsukawa. “See you soon!” he added teasingly, “I’ll make sure to bring Makki-chan along!”

“Don’t you dare,” Matsukawa called after him, “I’ll have your dreamy Iwa-chan murder you, I swear!”

“I’m not worried!” was the last thing Matsukawa heard before Oikawa was really gone.

Weird guy.

He seemed fun. A bit odd, a bit weird, but nice enough.

Unlike Hanamaki. Oikawa better keep his word. Matsukawa really had seen enough of Hanamaki for the past two months. Never again.

Oikawa laid low for a whole week, and Matsukawa was almost starting to think he’d forgotten about their deal. Then, in a spare moment with Iwaizumi, between classes, he heard Oikawa’s voice call out his name from behind him. Matsukawa quickly checked if Hanamaki wasn’t with him, and when he saw that wasn’t the case he slowed his pace. Iwaizumi did the same next to him, looking at him curiously.

“Oikawa, what is it?” Matsukawa greeted nonchalantly.

“Makki went home early so I was alone,” Oikawa said, slightly panting. “So I thought I could maybe hang out with you guys for a little while! Jeez, it took me hours. You’re supposed to be popular, Mattsun, you’re not supposed to be this hard to find.”

Matsukawa shot a side-eyed glance to Iwaizumi. He was looking at Oikawa, but there was no sign of interest. Matsukawa let out a fake sigh and gave Oikawa a soft push in Iwaizumi’s direction.

“Iwaizumi, remember Oikawa? Oikawa, Iwaizumi.”

“I remember,” Iwaizumi said gruffly, looking away. Matsukawa smirked.

“Iwa-chan, of course I’d remember him,” Oikawa said cheerfully.

“He doesn’t like fake people,” Matsukawa hissed in a low tone in Oikawa’s ear, referring to Iwaizumi. “So if you plan on succeeding in wooing him, I suggest you cut the shit and act natural. This cheery attitude is clearly fake and it’s gross.”

Oikawa whipped his head around, an offended look on his face. “I’m hurt. Who knew you thought so lowly of me? Me, fake?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, obviously enough so Oikawa could see. The latter just huffed and smiled. Matsukawa noted that it looked a lot less forced now.

“Thanks, Mattsun,” Oikawa whispered back at him when Matsukawa walked past him. Matsukawa ignored it and mentioned for Oikawa to follow Iwaizumi and him.

“C’mon, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, and Matsukawa tried his hardest to not laugh at the shocked look on Oikawa’s face. “Can’t hang with us if you’re gonna keep standing there. Hurry your ass, we’re going to get some food.”

Oikawa’s face immediately cleared up at that. “Okay, show me the way,” he said, stepping closer to Iwaizumi.

Matsukawa sighed and withheld the urge to sit down and facepalm. Oikawa was being way too obvious.

He was so, so lucky Iwaizumi was possibly the most oblivious person on campus.

 

At the burger place they’d planned to go to, Oikawa still hadn’t stopped being so obvious, and Matsukawa was starting to feel some secondhand embarrassment. Didn’t Oikawa know what natural meant?

They sat down with their food, and Oikawa pushed Iwaizumi in the booth with him, sitting down next to him. Matsukawa rolled his eyes, but sat down on the other side without saying a word. Iwaizumi was more focused on his food than Oikawa anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it ends weird but i have No energy to fix it so lets hope next chapter doesnt suck as bad xoxo


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